


The Average

by whitachi



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Growing Old Together, M/M, Old Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:39:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3583236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitachi/pseuds/whitachi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which they are still together, after all this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Average

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serenityfails](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenityfails/gifts).



"You know, I heard once," Iron Bull said to the tuft of dark hair poking out from underneath the blankets, "that the average human needs _less_ sleep when they get older."

"Average," came the muffled reply. "How dare you."

Iron Bull laughed warmly and leaned over to kiss the top of Dorian's head. He'd been up with the sun, but the mornings didn't really start until he started making trouble. "I'm gonna make breakfast. If you stay in bed, you don't get breakfast."

"If I stay in bed long enough," Dorian said, pulling the covers further up around himself, "eventually I will get _lunch_."

"Suit yourself," Bull said, and brushed his hand over Dorian's covered back one last time before standing up. He ate a couple of sausages and a piece of cheese the size of his face while watching a beam of light creep across the floorboards. He set some fruit and some of that weird squishy Orlesian cheese on a plate before nudging the swinging arm that held the kettle a little closer to the fire, making sure it was warm but not yet boiling. He'd never make it to lunch. 

Dorian was grumbling over a cup of tea within the hour. It'd been years since he stopped bothering to try to get his shit together before emerging from the bedroom. His hair was part bird's nest and part plastered to his head, but one side of his mustache had managed to stay bravely curled up through the night. 

The hair on his head was still perfectly dark, through and through, but Iron Bull _vividly_ remembered the horrific groan Dorian had let out the day he discovered the first white whisker. It'd taken a damn lot of convincing to keep him from shaving the whole thing off or doing something dumb with dyes, but Bull had done enough talking up of how _handsome_ and _dignified_ it looked to win out in the end. His facial hair was all stark white, now, because Iron Bull had pulled off yet another incredible feat and gotten Dorian to admit there was more to vanity than just clinging on to youth.

He was staring, and Dorian, still sleep-eyed and with pillow wrinkles on his cheek, said, "Yes?"

"You're fucking adorable," Bull said. "That's all."

"Ugh," Dorian said, and opened his mouth. Iron Bull plucked a grape off the plate in front of him and popped it inside. He could see Dorian smiling while he chewed.

Dorian managed to work the rest of breakfast by himself as Bull stretched his arms over his head, groaning and grunting as bones and joints he didn't even know he'd had popped. "One of Krem's boys is coming by in the next couple of days," he said. He was pretty sure he'd said it yesterday, too, but getting to repeat yourself was one of the rewards for surviving this long.

"Which one?" Dorian said, as he started to smooth out the ends of his mustache.

"It's, uh... shit, what's his name," Bull said. 

Dorian arched an eyebrow as he started to smirk. "I don't know, dearest, what _is_ his name?"

"Not the fat one, the redheaded one," Bull said. Did it start with an S? Or a T?

"Oh, that's..." Dorian blinked a few times and stopped smirking. "Oh, hell, what _is_ his name?"

Bull just started to laugh. "We're a real fucking team, aren't we?" he said. "Krem would kick both our asses if he knew."

"He's certainly welcome to try," Dorian said. After a moment he snapped his fingers and locked eyes with Bull. "Sabinus!"

"Sabinus!" Bull said, leaning back. "I knew it started with an S."

"Sabinus," Dorian muttered to himself, and took another drink of tea. "I'll straighten up the spare bed later."

Bull reached over and brushed his fingers through Dorian's messy hair. "You're such a good grandpa."

Dorian rolled his eyes. "Ugh," he said. "Stop." Bull laughed as he took his hand away. "No, not that. Keep doing that." Bull grinned and kept stroking Dorian's hair, gently working the tangles out with his fingers. Dorian closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, leaning into Bull's touch as he put him a little bit back together.

"I'll clean up around the rest of the house," Bull said. Not that the place was a mess, not between his own sense of order and Dorian's general fussiness. It'd give him something to do, though.

"How's your knee?" Dorian asked, like he did every day.

"Ah, it's shitty," Bull answered, like he did every day. "Been shittier, though." A lifetime of getting the shit beat out of him had taken its toll on Bull's body, and he could barely so much as sneeze without something making a popping sound. The main reason they'd ended up settling down so far north was because of how southern winters made Iron Bull, as Dorian put it, 'a completely unbearable whinging pain in the ass.' Bull had then said he'd _show_ Dorian what a pain the ass he could be, and Dorian said he'd like to see him try, and then they'd had a pretty fun night. In the end, though, warmer weather did them both good.

"A bath later, then," Dorian said.

Bull grinned. "With you in it?"

Dorian's smile was sly and gorgeous. Bull liked what all his smirks and sniffs and sneers over time had done for the wrinkles on his face, not that he'd ever dare call them that. "Well, someone's got to warm it up."

"I'm feeling warm already," Bull said as he leaned over, close to Dorian. "Here, let me show you," he said as he tucked a finger under his chin and tilted him up for a long, sweet kiss.

The rest of the day went by as days went by; slow, comfortable, and downright boring at points. Iron Bull liked a little boredom. The two of them probably could have used more boredom about ten years earlier in their lives, but some things just had to keep being too damn exciting. He'd whine about it from time to time, to fill the air more than anything, but Bull was actually pretty fine with having just one thing in his life still be exciting.

The bath was good, though, and not just because he needed the soak. If you couldn't use old Inquisition contacts to get strings pulled to get some dwarves to make you a big-ass bathtub, then what had even been the point of the whole thing? Dorian didn't even actually need to use magic to keep the water warm. Dwarven fucking engineering. Bull always had had a fondness for those little guys, even if they always went for the damn knees first.

Dorian's hand was rubbing against his knee beneath the water, just enough to make it ache in a good way. His fingers felt tingly, and even after all this time Bull wasn't sure if it was magic or, well, just "magic." Dorian was always good at making him feel tingly. 

"Page, please," Dorian said. He was settled with his back against Bull's chest, and Bull held the book Dorian was reading in front of the both of them. Dorian's hands were doing important things underneath the water like rubbing him and touching him, so Bull was happy to serve as bookstand and turn the pages when asked. He turned the page.

"Read me a little," he said, rubbing his chin a little against the top of Dorian's head, which he loved to pretend to hate. 

"It's nothing of interest to you," Dorian said. He wore little spectacles when he read these days, wire frames that hooked around the back of his ears. Bull considered biting one of those pretty little ears, but decided to save it.

"Don't care," he said. "Just like hearing you."

Dorian sighed and settled himself more comfortably against Bull's chest. "Well, bring it a little closer, then," he said, and after Bull did so, he launched into reading. It absolutely was boring as shit and Bull didn't care about a single word. He kissed the top of Dorian's head. It was great.

He closed the book after a while and Dorian didn't make much in the way of complaint. Bull let his hands go beneath the water to wrap around him, curling his shoulders inward, like he could get his whole body around Dorian if he tried hard enough. He wasn't small, Bull had to remind himself sometimes, not in comparison, not really. But he just liked moments like these, where he could feel like the biggest damn thing in the world, keeping something small and special safe.

He kissed Dorian's neck and stroked fingers against his stomach and felt the water ripple as he made a happy sound. "Ready to get out?"

"Ready to get in bed," Bull said, and loved the shiver he got when he brushed the stubble on his chin against the back of Dorian's neck.

"Come on, then," Dorian said, and stood up, giving Bull a great big facefull of his ass. He gave that a kiss, too. He would _never_ get tired of that ass.

Some towelings later, he was on his back on the bed, and that ass was resting comfortably on his belly. He was long past the days of kneeling or standing or bending anyone over anything in the bedroom, but as long as he still had this? Everything was just fine. 

He stroked Dorian from belly to chin and back again with the backs of his fingers, then the front. "Look at you," he said.

"Look at me," Dorian said, and Iron Bull smiled at his smile.

"My pretty boy," he said, and brushed his thumb along the curve of Dorian's neck and down along his chest, over all the spots on his skin that he'd marked with his mouth so many times. "My fucking gorgeous boy."

Dorian laughed, that _real_ laugh that hit Bull right in the base of the spine. "Still your boy," he said, leaning into Bull's touch and letting his hands settle on Bull's chest. "All this time, and still that?"

"Always," Bull said, and picked up one of Dorian's hands to bring it to his mouth, to kiss the backs of his fingers. "Always gonna be, too."

Dorian slipped his hand loose from Bull's grip to cup his fingers to his cheek. Bull closed his eye and turned into the touch. If it ever came to where this was it, all he could get was just that touch, he'd still be good. He'd be very good.

"Good," Dorian said, and then he was leaning forward to bring his mouth to Bull's. "It's all I want to be." Then he was kissing Bull, and then Bull got a hold of a handful of that ass of his, and then it was time to feel young again for a little while. No, he still felt old -- he just felt old and fucking _good_. That was much better than just being young.

When they were finished, all happy and worn out and cleaned up, Dorian extinguished the lamp by the bedside and curled up in his usual place underneath Bull's arm. Bull tugged the blankets up around them. In the morning they'd be entirely wrapped around Dorian, but things had to start somewhere.

Dorian's hand came to rest against Iron Bull's throat, right at his pulse point. "I love you," he said, voice soft, and sleepy, and content.

"And I love you," Bull said, and kissed the top of Dorian's head. "I'll see you in the morning," he said, but he could tell from his breathing that Dorian was already asleep.


End file.
